POEMS
Is she this gay and wimpled smile,
That sobbing children will someday sob?
He is not too small, not too tall,-
He's one who doesn't grow at all.
They listen to the blacksmith, he is forging
Their ancient joy, their lucky leagues.
The rain is dusky with fatigue,
She leans upon it, she taps out
Globes of light on the window, she
Holds herself, on the raindrop's branch.
VII
She is playing,
The Harmonious Blacksmith.
Randall Jarrell
SONG: NOT THERE
I went to the cupboard, I opened the door,
I cried to my people, "0 it's not there!"
"How long did you think it would last?" said the cook,
Said the butler, "Does anyone care?"
But where is it, where is it? 0 it's not there,
Not there to be saved, not there to be saved,
If
I'm saved it will not be there.
I ran to a plate, to a pig, to a dish,
An old china pig, a plate, to a pear,
Said, "To find it, 0, I will look anywhere,"
Said, "Anywhere, Anywhere"-"Look anywhere,"
Said the plate as it laughed, "Yes, look anywhere;
There's as good as here, there's as good as there-–
For where shall you look to be saved?"
I said to my people, the plate, to the cupboard,
The pig on its platter, the pear, the pear:
"0 where is my salvation?"
"0 it's not anywhere;
"You break in my head like a dish," said the plate,
"A pig," said the pig, "a pear," said the pear–
Not there to be saved, go not there to be saved,
If
you're saved it will not be there.
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